Ordinary Insanity
by sunflowerb
Summary: A Time Lord with questionable piloting skills, an irate and flirtatious archeologist, and a sleep-deprived kissogram. Just another night on the Tardis. oneshot. 11, River, Amy. set between 6.02 and 6.05


**A/N:** This may very well stop being canon come Saturday. For future reference, keep in mind that this was written **PRE-MIDSERIES 6 FINALE. **Depending on what happens in 6.07 this may lose all it's canonicity. Or it may not. It's not got much of a plot; it's just sort of fun with character interactions between the Doctor, Amy, and River (and a bit of Rory). Set somewhere between 'Day of the Moon' and 'Rebel Flesh'.

Doctor, Amy, River. Bit of implied DoctorRiver and AmyRory. Really more just fun with canon pairings than fluff. (Also, I couldn't for the life of me come up with a title I liked.)

_Ordinary Insanity_

"YOU ARE WITHOUT A DOUBT THE MOST INFURIATING MAN I HAVE EVER MET IN MY LIFE!"

"WELL, YOU'RE NOT EXACTLY MOTHER THERESA YOURSELF, HONEY!"

Amy groaned into her pillow. She heard Rory stir beside her and gleaned that they'd awoken him as well.

"You know, I think inviting her aboard was possibly the worst idea you've ever had," he grumbled into her ear.

"S'it your turn to break them up or mine?"

"I think it's yours." Amy let out a wordless whine as she tried to climb out of bed, but her progress was impeded by Rory's arms around her waist.

"Rory, I can't kill them with you holding on to me."

"Mm. Right," Rory mumbled sleepily and let her go. After she'd gotten out of bed he grabbed her pillow and clamped it over his head, just in time to muffle a new outburst from the control room. Amy yawned as she stumbled through the Tardis corridor toward the control room and the sound of the ruckus.

"I HATE YOU SOMETIMES!"

"NO YOU DON'T!"

She had to agree with Rory; convincing River to join them on the Tardis for a while may not have been the best decision. It'd seemed like a good idea at the time; it hadn't escaped her notice that the Doctor looked a little less cross to see River Song each time she showed up, and given that they were living their stories back to front she'd thought it would be good for them both to have a little time together that was actually linear.

The Tardis lurched to the side and Amy grabbed the rail on the side of the hallway. Well, she was certainly awake now. Already she missed the sanctuary of their gyroscopically-stabilized bedroom. (Now, if she could just get the Doctor to make it soundproof…)

"SHE HAS STABILIZERS FOR A REASON!"

The Tardis shook once more and then righted itself. Amy rolled her eyes. River and the Doctor couldn't be trusted alone together for more than a few minutes before chaos would erupt. Ever since River had arrived she and the Doctor had spent half the time fighting and the other half flirting, and Amy wasn't sure which one was more annoying, especially because they were so often the same thing. And then it was always possible to tell when they'd just been kissing, because River looked smug and the Doctor looked flustered. This usually led to him babbling inanely about the sonic screwdriver or something, which River would tease him about, which led to fighting, which led to flirting, which usually eventually led back to kissing. It was a horrible, endless cycle that was both irritating and immensely amusing, depending on whether or not they were waking everyone else up in the middle of the night.

Or at least what would be the middle of the night, if they weren't currently drifting through the time vortex.

Amy finally stumbled through the doorway into the control room and froze. River, clad in a gauzy nightgown and satin robe was leaned back, practically laying on the controls, as she held something shiny and oddly-shaped just out of reach of an irate Doctor, who was leaning over her with his arm outstretched trying to get to it.

"What in blazes are you two doing?" They halted their struggling and looked up at Amy, surprise evident on each face. The Doctor recovered first, turning his attention back to River and quickly swiping the metal object from her hand.

"Hey!" The Doctor darted around the console and stuck the object into it. River looked on with annoyance, her arms crossed, as the Doctor secured what looked like a small nexus of levers back into place with the sonic screwdriver. He pocketed the screwdriver and flipped several of the levers, and the Tardis began emitting its characteristic whirling noise.

"You know, it flies faster when you don't leave the brakes on," River scolded, flipping a few switches on her way to check the scanner.

"It's a time machine, what does it matter exactly how fast it flies?" He replied, rushing around the console and flipping back a few of the switches River had just adjusted. "And I love that noise."

"Once again," Amy said loudly, coming down the stairs, "What exactly are you two doing and why can't it wait until we're all awake?"

The Doctor poked his head around from the other side of the console with an injured glare. "I was just trying to set us a leisurely course for Paris in the twenties because you said you wanted to meet Coco Chanel, and then Mrs. Robinson over there-" River shot him a glare, "decided she wanted to debate piloting techniques."

"The way you were flying we were more likely to end up at Chanel's comeback collection in the fifties," River said, giving Amy a knowing smile.

"Well, so, you'd end up with a bottle of No. 5 one way or another, wouldn't you?"

"I'm fairly certain she wanted the experience, not just the perfume, sweetie. And besides," River was regarding the Doctor with her mischievous smile now, "you're more partial to No. 19, anyway."

Amy couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the embarrassed look that crossed the Doctor's face at that comment. "So anyway," she said, fighting to keep a straight face, "Why, exactly, were Rory and I woken up by yelling? Is anybody ever going to answer me that?"

River rolled her eyes again. "Sorry about that, but be thankful you weren't woken up by the piloting. She was rattling all about the place; that's what woke me up, since _somebody-_" here she glared at the Doctor, "—didn't fix the auto-orientation alignment gears for my bedroom. I came down here to try and get her stabilized before Spongebob Squarepants over there got us all killed."

The Doctor froze, frowning like an insulted art student. "Did you really just compare my driving skills to that of a yellow sponge from a children's cartoon?"

River crossed her arms and regarded him wryly. "Well, let's see; atrocious driving skills, never passed his test, questionable fashion tastes-" The Doctor scoffed and straightened his bow tie, "—yes, I'd say the comparison is fairly accurate."

The Doctor huffed, affronted, and straightened the lapels of his jacket. "Well, how's this for atrocious driving skills?" He sprinted around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers seemingly at random, before pulling down the handbrake with a superfluous flourish, and the Tardis stopped whirring and emitted a _bong_ to indicate they'd landed. The Doctor ran over to the doors and threw them open to reveal a dark street beyond.

"Paris, France; June 8th, 1926, just down the street from _Chanel Modes_ on 31 rue Cambon," He announced with a smug grin, "It's precisely-" he glanced at his watch "-2:17am local time, which means that by the time you've all gotten a good night's rest it'll be time to start shopping and sight-seeing. Now, as far as Coco is concerned, my name is John Smith, nobody mention the Doctor, she's still mad at me for—no, wait, it's 1926, so I haven't said that yet. Alright then, good. Just nobody mention Elsa Schiaparelli."

River shook her head as the Doctor closed the doors and swaggered over to them. "You just think you're so hot."

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." The Doctor grinned at her. "But you think so too, so I don't see what the problem is."

River stepped closer to the Doctor and lightly pinched his cheek. "Well, I suppose you look alright for such a baby face; how long since you graduated university? One year? Two?"

He shuffled closer. "That'd make you quite the cougar, wouldn't it, River?"

River raised an eyebrow and laughed. "That's a lovely shade of black you're sporting, my dear 910-year-old pot."

"Hey, when 910 you are, look this good you will not. I'm like a fine wine; I just get better with age. Much like yourself."

"Oh, stop it."

"Make me."

"Easy enough."

"Still standing here." River and the Doctor glanced up at Amy then back at each other. They stepped apart, River smiling casually at Amy and the Doctor clearing his throat nervously and sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Right, well, big day tomorrow, as always," River said, smiling. "Better get some sleep. Goodnight, Amy. Night, Doctor." She stepped around behind him, her hand trailing after her, and the Doctor jumped, his ears turning scarlet. Amy stifled a giggle.

"Oh, River," she said as she passed. The older woman stopped and looked back at her. "That's a lovely nightie, by the way."

"Why thank you, Amy."

"Is that what that is?" The Doctor commented, looking up at River's gown, a low-cut, figure-hugging, knee-length gauzy lavender number. "Here I was thinking you'd come down here in your underclothes."

River raised an eyebrow and her mischievous smile made its way to her lips again. "Disappointed, sweetie?"

The Doctor frowned and spluttered. "N-no, I merely meant that, well, there's hardly enough material to constitute a nightgown."

River's mischievous smile faded into bemusement. "You conservative old fogey, it's no worse than what Amy's wearing."

The Doctor glanced at Amy's outfit for the first time and gave her an once-over, frowning. Amy looked down at her own apparel; she'd been too sleepy to give much thought to what she was wearing when she stumbled out of her room. Her gown wasn't really _too_ revealing; it was quite short, and perhaps more low-cut than was necessary, and the periwinkle satin and cream lace edging were certainly a bit fancy for ordinary nightwear, and of course she hadn't really been expecting to be seen in it by anyone other than her husband…

"What on earth _are_ you wearing?"

Amy shrugged. "It's a nightie."

The Doctor was still regarding her outfit with obvious disapproval. "Says who?" he muttered.

"Oh, leave her alone. She's a grown, married woman," River said, making her way up the stairs.

The Doctor didn't reply, he just turned back to the console, muttering something about how 7-year-old Scottish girls weren't supposed to be sexy.

"Besides," River called back, "It's not like you're unfamiliar with clothing like that." She paused and looked back at the Doctor, a coy smile on her face. "Or maybe that's still a spoiler?" She winked and was up the stairs and out of sight before the Doctor could reply. He turned back to fiddling idly with switches and buttons that didn't do anything.

Barely containing her laughter, Amy bounded over to the Doctor's side and giggled in his ear. "Oh, she is _so_ your future wife."

"_Amy…_"

"Well, she's at least your current girlfriend."

The Doctor looked up at her with a frown squirming on his lips. "She is _not _my…" he trailed off at Amy's raised eyebrows. "Alright, so maybe she is a little. Ish."

Amy giggled. All his wisdom and all his knowledge and all his 900 years of experience and yet when it came to women he was just as ignorant and inept as any other man. "But you want her to be your wife one day, don't you? Can't you just picture it?" She nudged the Doctor's shoulder. "The Doctor and Mrs. Doctor and a brood of little half-Time-Lord mini-Doctors," she cooed through her laughter. "I can just see it; you covered in baby food and spaghetti noodles and the Tardis kitchen coated with smushed peaches."

"Oh, now you're just being ridiculous." The Doctor fled around the console to the scanner but Amy followed him. He glanced at her and puffed a sigh. "Would you at least just—here." He took off his jacket and threw it around her shoulders. "Cover up, for heaven's sake."

Amy rolled her eyes and put on the coat. "It's not like I'm wearing lingerie or anything."

"Still," The Doctor mumbled, pretending to be concentrating on the swirling images on the screen in front of him, "you were seven years old not that long ago."

"I was seven years old fifteen years ago, and you're just trying to distract me from asking about River because you get all awkward when it comes to romance." Amy smirked. "I know that from personal experience."

The Doctor spluttered and stared at her, appalled. "You were getting married in the morning!"

Amy's smirk became devilish. "Are you saying it would have made a difference if it hadn't been the night before my wedding?"

The Doctor scoffed, looking absolutely horrified. "Amelia Jessica Pond, I knew you when you were seven!"

"So, Rory knew me when I was seven."

"Amy, one minute you were seven, the next you were a nineteen-year-old kissogram. It's quite a shock to the system."

"Well, then, if you hadn't known me when I was seven, and it hadn't been the night before my wedding, then what would have happened that night?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. You're still Amy, and you're still human." He began fiddling with switches on the Tardis again. Amy narrowed her eyes.

"What are you even doing? We've already landed."

"I'm trying to figure out how to lock the controls so River can't use them. They used to be isomorphic, but I turned that off centuries ago and I can't remember how to put it back."

"So what does it matter that I'm human. Never stopped you before."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The Doctor asked absently, sonicing something on the console.

"Well," Amy drawled, "Marilyn Monroe…"

"That was an accident, and that was not even a real chapel!"

"…Queen Elizabeth…"

"Okay, now, the thing you've got to understand is that I was a different man back then, I thought I was dying; it was very complicated time for me, and what happened was-"

"…River…"

"Oh, would you leave me alone about that woman!"

"I just don't get why you're so scared of letting yourself like her, is all. I mean, yeah, so you don't know who she is, or if you do you're not telling, and yes, she's in prison for killing someone, but you clearly fancy her. What does it matter if she's human?"

The Doctor's face was devoid of expression as he answered. "Humans age. Humans get older and die. I don't."

Amy adopted a kinder smile. "That doesn't seem to have stopped you yet. I mean, you look about twelve, and River's probably, what, mid-forties? And Doctor, she's an absolute knock-out. And since you're living things backwards she's just going to get younger. Imagine what she's going to look like when she's my age." She nudged his shoulder playfully, bringing a small smile to his face, though it faded quickly.

He stopped messing with the console and faced her. He looked very old and very tired in that moment. "A day is still coming when I'll lose her, though. Eventually the day will come when it'll all be backwards, and I'll be the one who'll know her, and she'll be the one wondering who I am. And then the day will come that she'll look at me and won't have the slightest idea who I am. I've seen what that looks like on her end; I'm none too eager to experience it myself." He held her gaze for a moment longer before returning his attention to several of the Tardis's extraneous gizmos. Amy watched him silently for a moment.

"So what about you and Rory?" he said loudly after a few minutes of silence.

"What about us?"

The Doctor faced her with a smile that hadn't yet eclipsed the sorrow in his eyes. "Are you two ever going to be covered in baby food in a spaghetti-coated kitchen?"

Amy smiled and shrugged. "I don't know, probably someday."

"Probably?" The Doctor looked legitimately amused now. "I think that's one of those things you're supposed to talk out before you marry someone."

"Well," Amy droned, crossing her arms over her chest, "I know Rory wants kids, and I do too, eventually, it's just that, you know," she sighed, "We'd have to leave all this behind first. It's not like the Tardis is the optimal environment for raising kids. And I just hate the thought of really finally saying goodbye to this life; to you, to the Tardis, to adventures."

The Doctor smiled widely and put a hand on her shoulder. "Amy, you'd be starting a family! That's an adventure in itself! I can see it now; Mr. Pond and Mrs. Pond and a bunch of little Ponds. Puddles!" He exclaimed, grinning. "That's what we could call them; the Ponds and their little Puddles!" Amy couldn't help but smile at the Doctor's exuberant suggestion.

"You do know it's actually legally Mrs. Williams now, don't you?"

"Course I do. I was at the wedding, wasn't I? It just might as well be Mr. and Mrs. Pond, after all, and I couldn't call them little Puddles if you were Mr. and Mrs. Williams, though, could I?"

Amy's giggles chimed in with the Doctor's chuckles, and after they stopped a silence fell between them.

"Would you come visit us?" Amy finally asked. "When Rory and I finally leave and go have all our little Puddles, will you come pop in every now and then?" She watched the smile slipping off the Doctor's face. "I mean, you don't have to be there all the time, just, stop by once a year or something, yeah? Like Christmas, you could come see us for Christmas." She said with a smile.

The Doctor laughed. "I'm not sure you want me to come by for Christmas; my Christmases never end well."

Amy grinned and shrugged. "Weeell, okay, maybe not Christmas. Summer holidays, then. What's a family vacation to Disney World compared to the anti-gravity bazaars of Trygar 9? I mean, sure, it'd make the kids' beginning of the year, 'What I Did on My Summer Holiday' assignment a bit tricky, but it'd be worth it, don't you think?"

"We could even go meet Walt, if you like," The Doctor said, chuckling. "Fascinating fellow, you'd love him. And I know he'd love you; and he loved kids, so he'd adore the little Puddles."

They lapsed into companionable silence again. Amy watched the Doctor's face, and as she did so her smile slowly faded. "You're not really going to come visit us after we finally leave, are you?" She asked quietly.

The Doctor frowned at her. "Of course I am. Don't be silly."

Amy gave him a small, sad smile. "No you're not. You can't fool me, Doctor. I know you too well."

"Amelia, what are you talking about?" He asked gently, regarding her with sadness and concern painting his features.

Amy sighed and looked around the Tardis. "You've been traveling in this thing for centuries, and Rory and I aren't the first passengers you've brought along. There've been dozens here before us." She noticed the Doctor drop his gaze to the floor. "And I know you must have been as close to some of them as you are to us. All those friends, and yet the whole time I've been here, we've never gone to visit any of them."

She stared intently at the side of the Doctor's face. His face was so young, but it was the wise old man of the universe who looked up at her. "I don't age, Amy; I change," he said firmly, though not unkindly, "You humans are so temporary; so, so…_ephemeral._" A little line appeared between his eyebrows. "You don't understand how much it hurts to watch you all wither and die."

Amy bit the inside of her cheek as the image flashed in her mind of the desert, the spaceman, the burst of green light…the still figure burning on the boat. She swallowed hard and faced him with resolve set in her eyes. "You don't think that sounds a bit selfish? You don't think it hurts us too?" His expression shifted as guilt crept into the sadness. "You don't think about how much it affects us; getting a taste of your world? You drop into our lives, and bring all your splendor and madness with you, and then one day we have to leave it all behind." Her voice was getting louder and shakier with each word. "You swan off to more adventure, and we have to spend the rest of our ordinary, normal, mundane lives wondering if it all really happened or if we just dreamed it all." The Doctor regarded her with his mouth slightly open, as if he was about to say something, though he looked at a loss as to what the words should actually be. "You're not going to do that to me, Doctor."

"Amy," he began, looking genuinely apologetic.

"No," she interrupted, her brows knitted and her lips pursed. "Don't you even lie; you are not going to do that to me. You're going to check in regularly. You're going to be there to take the Puddles to Disney World, and, and then the grand-Puddles if there end up being any of those. You're going to be there to tease me when I start going gray, and you don't have to be at my funeral, but you had better at least give me a chance to tell you goodbye, properly."

He dropped his eyes to the floor. "Amelia, please understand what you're ask-"

"Five minutes." The Doctor looked up at her; she looked more determined than ever.

"What?"

"Five minutes," Amy repeated. "You said five minutes. You _promised_ five minutes. And instead I got fourteen years and five psychiatrists."

"Five, I thought it was only four?"

"Aunt Sharon made me go see someone after the whole Prisoner Zero thing. The point is, Doctor," she stepped closer to him, "you owe me. After all those years, Doctor, _you __**owe**__me._"

The Doctor's expression softened. "Alright," he said softly. "Disney World with the Puddles it is."

"Swear it," Amy said, looking back and forth between his eyes. "I know you, you lie. I want you to swear it. Swear it on something that matters," she said, echoing his earlier words to her.

The Doctor sighed and gave her a small smile that looked almost fatherly. "Fish fingers and custard." He took her hands in his own. "I swear on fish fingers and custard, and evil beans, and smiley-faced apples, and the broken bread-and-butter plate that I still owe you." Amy smiled and threw her arms around his neck. She knew it was possible that he wouldn't keep his promise. She certainly wanted to believe that he would, or at least that he wanted to, but who knew just how much he would manage to accomplish before that fateful day beside the lake in Utah? But the Doctor had known he was going to his death, hadn't he? Surely he would have made it a priority to keep his promise before he died. Amy squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think any more about that particular event. Time could be rewritten; there was still a chance. There had to be. She needed to believe that there had to be.

"Hey," she whispered in his ear as he wrapped his arms around her.

"What?"

Amy grinned. "Gotcha." The Doctor chuckled in her ear. He smiled at her after she released him.

"Amelia Pond. What am I ever going to do with you?" She just grinned in reply. "Well," he said, more casually now, "Off to bed with you, it's getting late, or actually early; one way or another it's almost tomorrow and you need to get your rest."

"You've been awfully concerned with me getting enough rest, recently," Amy said, frowning as she took off the Doctor's tweed jacket to return it to him.

"Well, you're a newlywed." The Doctor gave her a cheeky smile. "They're not necessarily known for getting the proper amount of sleep."

Amy rolled her eyes and threw the jacket at the Doctor's head. He caught it, barely. "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Night, Amy."

She'd made it to the foot of the stairs when she paused, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "Doctor?" she said, turning around to look at him. He was back studying the scanner, but looked up when she called.

"Yes?"

"Do me one more favor. Don't…don't be so scared of getting attached to people just because you're afraid of losing them, okay?"

The Doctor frowned. "Is this about River again?"

"It's not just about River," Amy insisted, shuffling her feet as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "It's just…nevermind." She started back of the stairs but stopped again and turned back to the Doctor. "It's true you know." He looked up. "That saying, about 'It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all'? It really is true."

"Who can say that for sure?" The Doctor asked, his face impassive.

"I can."

The Doctor frowned in confusion. "How so?"

"I lost Rory, more than once. And one of those times I couldn't even remember him. But you know," she smiled down at the gold band on her finger, then back to the Doctor, "Between the pain of losing him, and the empty bliss of never having known him…I'd take the pain. I'd take him. Every time." She felt a tear forming in the corner of her eye and blinked it away. "All those memories, every moment I ever spent with him, the good and the bad; they were worth it. He was worth every bit of the grief." _And so were you,_ she thought. "The more it hurts to lose someone, the more they were worth having to begin with."

The Doctor nodded and looked down. Amy smiled. "G'night, Doctor."

"Goodnight Pond."

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

The next morning was much like any other, which is to say complete chaos.

River accidentally jammed the toaster, and the Doctor got distracted fixing it and ended up taking it completely apart. River mocked, the Doctor quipped, and Amy and Rory sat back and enjoyed the show. It finally ended when River splashed her orange juice on the front of the Doctor's trousers and he left to go change.

There was no such thing as sanity when you ran with the Doctor, Amy mused; this was as ordinary as things ever really got.

It was insane, impossible, dangerous, exciting, and completely ridiculous. They all drove each other up the wall and loved each other more than anything in the universe. It was always a bit bipolar when you ran with the Doctor; or maybe just paradoxical.

Danger and excitement; love and hate; fighting and flirting; hugging and hitting; such was life with the Doctor.

(And really, they wouldn't have it any other way.)

* * *

><p>AN: Whee. Yeah, this was so all-over-the-place. I just wanted to write character interaction, mostly. I rewrote the epilogue about five times, and I still don't like it, but this has been sitting on my hard drive since 'Curse of the Black Spot', at least, and I wanted to post it before 'A Good Man Goes to War' premieres, since that episode will probably change absolutely everthing. Let me know what you think dearies, and let me know how well I write British. (I be an American, and over here we speak Americanese 'n stuff.)


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